This listening this listening to
not at all happy with...

I am not deaf I am not hearing
what I am hearing

this wave this wave is coming back
its not the wave its the shore

listening to the sea its the shore
listening to the tongues of waves

its the moment the wave recedes
leapt upon by gleaming light

dissolving by receding this light fades
into sand into glass into

this is not sound this is not an act of sound
i am reverberating from beauty

i am littering space between with this
guessing about you

this apprehension of you this anticipation
of your hunger and whether it exceeds the lies you were born into

this listening to the lies making up the heart
of our us oh how fear ***** us in

unbelieve  your skin and snot and drool
as impediments to beauty

I am running your intent to ground
where sound grinds down

did i stutter did i drift did I miss
where you live and cry in small check

this crumb this dry crumb that is my heart
would listen really it would if only you

if only you were my beloved if only you
listening meant satisfaction

this sound coming from this sound
cries twice for the cool night without sound

i am not able to able to carry this carry this
self boarding self recrimination self sailing

feet of rope encircle our necking our passion
aching against all this listening this bath of alive

this hearing of angst and animosity and rutting anger
wishing to be fully pressured

and heard I am listening as you detonate
your threat to cause tears

i don't know what you are saying
I am pulled to corners by forces

then cool night air moves through
and i feel heard